


Slices of Truth To Feed The Lie

by Deerstalker221



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bullying, Cutting, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 00:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13469796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deerstalker221/pseuds/Deerstalker221
Summary: TRIGGER WARNING: Self Harm and Cutting.





	Slices of Truth To Feed The Lie

A tear slowly fell down Sherlock's pale cheek as he stared at his arm. The alabaster skin stretched silkily across the expanse of his outstretched arm. Pink lines stuttered across the face of the flesh as he held the thin blade, it's edge whispering sweet endearments into his ear. Beyond the locked door of the bathroom, the television could be heard, it's tinny blur the only signal to John's presence. Sherlock swiped angrily at the cascading tears. He pressed the biting corner of the blade against his skin, a small droplet of blood caught against the blade's edge.

"Sherlock?"

That simple but warm voice called through the wooden door and tingled against his ears. A warm thrum danced through Sherlock's chest, battered down by the pluming fear that accumulated and bounced against his sternum. "John." His voice croaked brokenly as a sob left his sinched throat. Sherlock clenched his eyes tightly shut and berated himself for the lack of control. He couldn't give John a reason for worrying. He had to do this, had to mark down the truth. With each utterance of 'Freak' spouted at a crime scene had to be carved out into his soft innocent flesh. He nibbled on his lip as he tensed his fingers that were curled about the blade.

"Sherlock? Are you alright?" He called once more, the taint of worry staining his words. "Sherlock?" More urgently.

Sherlock growled and cut once. Twice. Thrice. He kept slicing over and over forcing the blade to slice through his flesh. At the gleaming and beading ten cuts, he pulled away. His eyes followed the trickling of blood as it dropped from his arm and into the sink. Relief swamped his breast as he let his head lol to the side. He whimpered against the stinging pain and soft thrumming as adrenaline coursed through his veins and out to the surface as blood spilt from his arm.

"Oh my God." John's voice cut out from where Sherlock was stood by the sink. Having not received an answer from outside the door to the bathroom, the doctor had crept through Sherlock's room to gain entrance through the second door to the bathroom. Sherlock - the idiot that he was - had forgotten to lock that door. Blue eyes roved over his cuts, that were still pouring his essence into the sink and were met with aquamarine eyes as Sherlock glanced at the man, his strength sucked through the slits in his arm. 

John surged forward to catch Sherlock as his legs buckled beneath him and gently lowered the thinner man to the ground. "Sherlock, what have you done?" He whimpered but was met with a resounding silence as Sherlock leant back into John, his head rolling back against his shoulder. "Why?" He croaked.

Sherlock couldn't keep the snigger from his throat as John asked the obvious question, but he clenched his joints tightly as John asked for a reason. His eyes flickered open and he gazed up at the blond. He chuckled darkly. "Needed to right the truth." He huffed out with a breathy growl. John held him tighter.  
"What truth?" He muttered, lips buried in Sherlock's hair as he held the man close to his chest.   
"Freak."

And with that one word the pieces fell into place. Donovan and Anderson, together at the crime scene, had each uttered an overabundance of the retched word and it seemed that Sherlock wasn't as unaffected by it as John had originally thought. He was broken from his reverie by Sherlock leaning up to press his face against his jaw. "Please don't leave me." He whimpered brokenly.

John sighed and shook his head in negative. "I will never leave you." He vowed as he silently promised himself and Sherlock that he'd never allow Sherlock to be treated as anything but the amazement that he was. "Please let me clean you."

Sherlock glanced up at the man and nodded quietly. "Yes, John. Only you."


End file.
